


FAITH, HOPE AND CHRISTMAS

by heatherpeters



Category: The Blacklist
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 09:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatherpeters/pseuds/heatherpeters
Summary: The imposter Liz Keen knows only as Raymond Reddington, is being released from prison and she waits for him, regretting her actions to beg for his forgiveness.





	FAITH, HOPE AND CHRISTMAS

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cress26](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cress26/gifts).



The winter air outside was cold. Quiet. Still. 

And she was alone. Cold. Quiet. Still.

The imposing, granite building loomed over the dead-end street, while lazy snow flakes made their way to the ground, in no apparent rush to cease their descent from the gray, colorless sky.

Elizabeth sat in the back of the black Mercedes, her eyes focused on the door situated across the street, waiting for it to open. 

Waiting. Waiting.

Restless and Impatient, she looked at her watch…for the tenth time in the past three minutes, urging time to move forward.

Hoping, praying, that the plan she’d put forward months ago would gain the desired results.

“Staring at your watch will not make the seconds go any faster, Elizabeth.”

Nodding absentmindedly, she knew Dembe was right. Time was not going to fly by just because she willed it.

“I know. Thank you. It’s just that….”

Sitting behind the wheel, he turned to face her, a warm smile touching her heart, as it always did, especially in these past few achingly lonely months.

“I know….I miss him as well….it won’t be long now.”

Turning her eyes once more to the door of the court house, where prisoners are released, her thoughts returned to the night, nearly three years before. She’d been released from captivity, alone. He’d been there for her then. He’d always been there for her.

It had been a rough couple of years. Her mind reeled with all they’d endured since the Cabal and all its corrupted venom that had invaded her life. His life.

Their lives.

And now, their situations had been reversed. It was he who’d been carcerated unjustly; he who’d been trapped, betrayed, arrested.

Because of her.

Because of her treachery.

The man she’d known as Red – as Raymond Reddington, the man she’d known for five years, was no more.

Closing her eyes as her head began to pound, her mind reeled, her body shook, and her conscience ripped her apart.

How could she do something so devious? How could she listen to Jennifer, thinking her ‘sister’ would help her trap and deceive the one man who’d stood beside her, supported her, protected and yes, loved her through it all?

Would he ever forgive her? Would he want to destroy her? Kill her? Expel her from his life forever?

He didn’t know she was coming here tonight. And it was only through Dembe, bless his heart, that she knew to do the right thing.

The only thing.

All that time in prison, he’d never spoken to her, and who could blame him? She put him in that godforsaken place to rot, like a common thug.

And Red, or whoever the hell he was, was far from a thug. She’d had so much time to think, to research, to do her homework, not to mention use her pull as an FBI agent, to reverse the harm she’d done to him, and secure his freedom.

She could never forgive herself, and didn’t expect him to forgive her, ever, but at least she would try.

And that would start with tonight.

With his release. And her apology. She’d offer to erase herself from his life completely, if he hadn’t already done that.

The snow began to fall harder: fat, chaotic flakes that obstructed her view, but she didn’t care. She’d do this: meet him as he came through those doors, and beg him, grovel, and count on his good nature to form some sort of forgiveness for her. He’d done it before, when she’d mistakenly feigned her death, thinking that it was all for the best. She’d been wrong – about so many things. So many things she’d given no thought to. And he’d forgiven her: again and again, over and over.

This man, this Raymond Reddington, or whoever he was, the man who’d come into her life after protecting her for nearly thirty years, had protected her, stood by her side, fought for her freedom time and time again.

He’d always believed in her, even after all the bad, all the deception.

He was all about faith – could she dare hope that this time, this one time, faith and hope would reign true, for both of them?

After all, he was still Red, wasn’t he? Not her father, or relative or Katarina’s lover. Clarity knocked her over when she realized that he wasn’t really a criminal, a bad man. How could he be? He could make her laugh and cry, grow angry and sympathetic, flirty and loving, with just one look. His set of circumstances, all those years ago, had set him on a course that had culminated in this night.  
It didn’t really matter who he really was. The whys and wheres didn’t matter anymore, did they?

He wasn’t her father. Or uncle, or her real father’s ‘twin’. 

They weren’t related by blood.

And thank God for that.

Because his absence in her life all these months had truly brought home the truth to light.

She’d loved him, all this time, maybe even from the moment she’d walked in the post office, and confronted him on the other side of that glass.

Her eyes welled with unshed tears at the thought that he might reject her tonight. Maybe he’d walk right past her, cast her aside and drive away into the night, leaving her alone – and lost.

She deserved it, didn’t she? She didn’t deserve his forgiveness, but she held faith close to her soul. Her heart ached with emotion with the thought of seeing him tonight, on this most festive occasion. No one should be alone on Christmas. Especially Red. Noble, brave, loving Red.

##### 

He checked his watch for the umpteenth time, waiting for his papers to be processed.

Earlier in the day, Dembe had delivered clothes and shoes for him, and he’d been grateful to find himself back in a clean suit, tie, wool overcoat to protect him from the wintry cold outside, and, of course, his beloved fedora.

Chuckling lightly as he mused on how profitable his stay in this damp, lifeless tomb had been. Nevertheless, he’d be glad to breathe the cold clean air of freedom. 

His decision to go into self-imposed exile had been an easy one. Nothing so drastic for the time being. He would stay with Dom, enjoy the country air, single malt scotch and the newly repaired piano, while avoiding the God-awful buttermilk that Dom insisted keeping in the house. Well, some things couldn’t be avoided, I guess, he shook his head in amusement.

He’d stay with his lifelong friend and former colleague, until he’d made arrangements to travel to his quaint country cottage in the south of France, and there, live out the rest of his life in peace, tranquility….alone.

Who the hell was he kidding?

Why was he crowding his mind with all these thoughts except for the one he was avoiding?

Elizabeth.

She’d betrayed him, nearly had him executed, deceived him to the depths of her soul. Did she hate him so much? Had he destroyed all hope of being worthy of her love? Had Jennifer and Tom turned her against him so deeply, that she was willing to put him prison, and possibly have him executed?

“Why, Lizzie? Why?”

Didn’t she know that even now, discovering that it had been she, who’d cleared him of any misdeeds, she, who’d gone against the bureau and lost her job in the process, and with the assistance of his team, had secured his freedom.

Of course, he was grateful, surely, he wasn’t ready to die, not yet. There was just too much living left to do.

But how would he do it, without her?

He was as bereft at this moment, as he was when she ‘died.’ His body ached, his heart pierced from her betrayal, his mind working tirelessly to rise above all the deception. He could not, would not, show his sadness, to anyone. Weakness was not an option, ever.

In a short while, it would be Christmas. He’d stay in the safe house tonight, then early in the morning, he would go to Dom. He’d told Dembe to spend the holidays with Ellie and Isabel.

His mind went back to Elizabeth. He couldn’t help it. He saw her face every time he closed his eyes; he could hear her voice everywhere. Each day of his imprisonment was like an eternity. She continued to appear as a fire in his soul and a constant presence in his heart, his life.

No matter what she’d done, said, acted, been, she was still his Lizzie.

He wasn’t fooling anyone, including himself. He still loved her. He’d always loved her, with a passion that burned like the flames of the sun.

Maybe someday, he could find it in his heart to forgive her.

If he hadn’t already decided to do that.

##### 

The heavy metal door creaked from age and rust as the uniformed guard pulled the handle and just like that, he was free.

The portal slammed shut behind him and he looked up, allowing the thick white flakes to sting his face. Inhaling deeply of the clean, bitter cold air, he buttoned his long black woolen coat, straightened his fedora, and walked toward the street.

The snow dusted sidewalk was a welcome sight, as was the silence of the city, deserted this close to midnight on Christmas Eve.

Peering across the large two-way street, his was the only car parked directly in his line of sight. He felt a tad weary, and all he wanted right now was to travel to the safe house, have a stiff glass of his favorite scotch, and sleep in his own bed, covered by cashmere blankets, with the windows open, letting in the fresh air, letting go of the stench of the place that he’d left behind.

Not waiting for Dembe to exit the car, he looked both ways before he crossed the wide avenue, but it wasn’t the driver side door that opened: it was the back.

It was her.

No. No not now. Why have you come? What was she doing here? Why did she look so beautiful? Her hair was loose and whipping around her face. She looked thinner, he could tell that even through her heavy deep burgundy coat. 

She didn’t come toward him though. She hesitated, stood against the door of the car, as if she was leery of his reaction to her presence. Her face was illuminated by the gleam of the street lights shining above them.

She was beautiful. And looking at her as he continued to make his way to the car. He neither slowed down or sped up. He just made that journey until they were toe to toe, face to face.

Her eyes never left his face, his gaze fixed on hers.

She’d turned him in. She’d vowed to destroy him, didn’t she?

“Elizabeth.”

Pursing her lips, her chin lifted a bit to look him deep in the eyes.

“You’re free.”

He buried his hands deep in his coat pockets, curled into fists, keeping him from either throttling her, or holding her so tight, they’d both die from loss of breath.

“Yes, and I’ve been told it was, in large part, due to your help, working with my team to acquire my freedom. I thank you for that, Elizabeth. But, what on earth are you doing here?”

She blinked several times, as if trying to hold back tears. But why on earth would she cry for me? He thought, as the wind grew in intensity, melting when it rested on her coat lapels, threading through her thick strands of brown silk.

His heart picked up speed, his hands trembled as he waited for her answer. Why was she here, standing in the street on Christmas Eve, in the bitter cold, while the snow sunk quietly to the ground? Had she shown up just to say, ‘I’m glad you’re free, good bye and good luck,’ then walk away? Out of his life for good?

“Faith.” Was her answer, making his brows furrow, surprised by her answer.  
“Faith?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And Hope. For us, for a new start, a new beginning if you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

He gave that tiny tilt of the head that she adored. “Forgive you for what?”

She nearly puffed out a tiny giggle, hoping above hope, that he was playing along, that he had space in his heart to let her into his life, one more time.

“For everything.” Was the only answer she could fathom.

He must have seen her shiver, her lips tremble, her nose turn a bit pink from the cold, but he couldn’t commit to anything this quickly. Couldn’t bear to suffer another bout of heart break.

“I’m going away, Elizabeth. For good. Sort of a self-exile, you could call it.”

Now a lone tear brimmed over and fell from her eye, while a tiny sob escaped her throat.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I know you are not really my father, not the real Reddington. I don’t blame you for wanting to leave me. I should have trusted you all these years. You did nothing but protect me, stand by me. Everything you did for me, you did out of love, and I know that what I did is a horrible thing to do, especially to you. So, I don’t blame you for wanting to get away from me. I just never realized that…”

He pulled his hand from his pocket and grabbed her arm. “Lizzie….”

With his other arm, he pulled her into his chest, and she lifted her arms and encircled his neck, sobbing uncontrollably now. 

The heart-wrenching cries nearly brought him to his knees as he sought to soothe her. “Shh, sweetheart, don’t….please don’t…..I can’t bear your tears…”

“I’m so sorry, Red, sorrier than you’ll ever know. I understand why you must leave. I’ve driven you away and now I’ll never be able to ….”

His cheek slid close to hers, and he ached to get closer to her as his emotions surrounded him, as did the winter wind. He inhaled the womanly, lovely, enticing scent of her. This was his Lizzie, emotional, conflicted, passionate. Did she know how deeply he loved her, wanted her, ached for her love in return?

He slid his palm down the length of her thick, hair, reveling in the familiar touch of her while he brought her body closer. “Let’s get in the car before we both freeze to death. We’ll talk when we get to the safe house.”

She leaned away from him; they were nose to nose, their breaths puffing out in white vapor from the cold.

“I’m sorry Red; I want you to know that I love you; I’ve always loved you, and I need you to forgive me, please. I’ll make it up to you, I promise….I…”

The crush of his lips against hers cut off her words as his mouth engulfed her own. She stood on tip toes to receive the warmth of his mouth, responding to a kiss that was hot enough to melt the snow all around them. 

“Red, Red…..”

“Get in the car, Lizzie.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, Dembe appeared opened the back door and helped them both into the back seat.

Throwing off his hat, he lifted her onto his lap, and proceeded to kiss the life out of her, as Dembe took the wheel and drove toward the safe house.

Her tiny fingers held his face while she assaulted his mouth, and he unbuttoned her coat, his hands finding their way around her waist, bringing her closer to him.

He was aroused, damn it. He wanted her, he loved her. Between kisses, he gathered the strength to ask her: “Do you want to know who I am, Lizzie? Is it important to you? Tell me the truth. No more lies, no more secrets between us.”

“I know who you are.” She whispered, planting kisses all over his face, while her fingers loosened his tie. “You are the man I love.”

She burrowed her head under his chin, relishing the rise and fall of his chest as he held her in the nest of his arms. “Someday, you may change your mind and demand to know my identity.”

A hint of humor colored his tone, and she relaxed a bit, knowing that they were going to be okay. “And on that day, if it ever comes, you’ll tell me.”

They sat quietly for a time, their eyes closed, their bodies warm, nestled so close they were truly one.

“Yes, my Lizzie. When that day comes, I’ll tell you. In the meantime, all that matters is that we’re together. How do you feel about the south of France?”

She lifted her face to meet his adoring gaze. “It doesn’t matter where we go, as long as we’re together.”

They heard church bells in the distance as Red looked at his watch. “It’s midnight.” Once again, he took the lips that she offered him, sealing their silent commitment with the intimacy of that kiss.

“Merry Christmas, Lizzie. I love you.”

“Merry Christmas, Red. I love you more.”

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This Lizzington one-shot is a Christmas gift to my dear friend, cress26, but to me, she is Birgit Weinert; we have been friends for nearly 3 years, she in Germany, I'm in New York; We've shared our love of The Blacklist and also became each other's beta and editor for our fanfic stories. 
> 
> Faith, Hope and Christmas is just my version of what will happen when Red is released from prison in season 6 ~~ I hope you will all enjoy a little holiday cheer, and that Red (or whoever he is) and Lizzie will soon find their way back to each other.
> 
> Merry Christmas my beloved friend, and to all of you!!


End file.
